^^^H 

UC-NRLF 


B    3   110 


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.(and. 
OtfO'Ooots 


Harry  .Fee 


COPYRIGHT  1921 

h 
HARRY  T.  FEE 


CONTENTS 


THE  LAND  OF  OUT  O'  DOORS 

THE  PEACEMAKER 8 

WORLD  OF  DREAM 9 

MY  KIN 10 

THE   OPEN 11 

AUTUMN'S  WONDERLAND 12 

FISHIN' 13 

AUTO-INTOXICATION 14 

MY   DREAM 15 

A  PRAYER 16 

TRIFLES 17 

THE  OLD  MOUNTAIN  ROAD 18 

JEST  FISHIN' 19 

GOD  OF  THE  OPEN 20 

I  AM  CONTENT 21 

MOTHER 22 

THE  SETTLER 23 

TAHOE-YOSEMITE 24 

PIPES  O'  PAN 25 

LAND    OF   DREAM 26 

KHAKI   FOLK 27 

TRY  A  SMILE 28-29 

THE  FOREST 30 

TAHOE  SNOW 31 

VACATION 32-33 

THE  PIONEER 34 

KINDRED 35 

THE   PINE 36 

THE  SIERRAS 37 

THE  INEVITABLE 38 

THE  TRAILS 39 

ACHIEVEMENT 40 

THE  CALL 41 

MY  HOME 42 

TWILIGHT 43 

THANKSGIVING 44 

PURPOSE 45 

GOD 46 

THE  KINGS                                      47 


CONTENTS 


GOOD  ENOUGH   FOR  ME 48-49 

OLD  FASHIONED 50 

FREEDOM 51 

BACK  TO  TRUTH 52-53 

MY   FRIENDS 54 

THE   PAST 55 

THE  HILLS 56-57 

SOLITUDE 58 

PEACE 59 

SHIFTLESS  JIM 60-61 

THE  BUILDER 62 

THE  HAUNTS  OF  GOD 63 

OCTOBER 64 

NATURE 65 

OUT    DOORS 66 

NATURE'S  TEMPLE 6? 

OUT  HERE  IN  THE  WEST 68-69 

THE  OLD  ROAD .  70 

THE  END  OF  THE  TRAIL 71 

THE  TEMPLE n 

INTERPRETATION 73 

THE  GOAL 74 

FISHING  75 


~*ijr<^^ 

THE  LAND  OF  OUT  O'  DOORS 


THE  LAND  OF  OUT  O'  DOORS 

I  WEARY  of  the  drooping  hours 

Within  the  city's  doors, 
The  rush  and  strife,  the  bustling  life, 

The  petty,  puny  wars ; 
So  I  start  the  car  for  the  hills  afar 

And  the  Land  of  Out  o'  Doors. 

Where  ne'er  a  cloud  hangs  in  the  sky, 
And  where  with  the  spirit  free, 

The  woodland's  scent  with  blossom  blent, 
Odor  of  bush  and  tree, 

As  clear  and  fine  as  the  scent  of  wine, 
The  breezes  bear  to  me. 

Fair  are  the  forests  standing  there, 
With  the  woodland's  balm  imbued; 

And  calm  and  still  over  vale  and  hill 
The  charm  of  the  solitude, 

While  every  thought  in  my  fancy  wrought 
Speaks  deep  to  a  kindred  mood. 

So  I  leave  the  ways  where  the  traffic  sways 
And  the  strain  of  the  battle  soars, 

With  never  a  care  to  the  country  where 
God's  golden  sunlight  pours, 

And  I  enter  in  and  I  greet  my  kin 
In  the  land  of  Out  o'  Doors. 


',  -'-  '  "• 


THE  LAND  OF  OUT  O'  DOORS 


THE  PEACEMAKER 

WE'VE  jogged  along  in  our  peaceful  way, 

Nancy  and  I  together. 
We've  watched  the  sun  and  the  shadows  play 

And  stood  all  kinds  of  weather. 
Forty  years  of  our  married  life. 

With  never  no  squalls  nor  pouts, 
And  now  today  at  the  end  of  the  way 

Nancy  and  I  are  at  outs. 

Seemed  like  nothin'  could  mar  the  peace 

Of  our  even  tempered  life, 
Seemed  like  never  could  enter  here 

The  hint  of  quarrel  or  strife. 
But  here  at  last  it's  happened, 

And  it's  mighty  bad  I  feel, 
All  along  of  this  squabble 

About  an  automobile. 

Well  say,  the  sun  is  brighter  today, 

Happiness  brims  my  cup. 
The  gathering  clouds  have  rolled  away, 

Nancy  and  I  have  made  up. 
I'm  as  happy  as  man  could  be, 

Nancy's  quite  in  accord — 
Nancy  was  right,  it's  great  by  gee — 

We've  bought  a  brand  new  Ford. 


THE  LAND  OF  OUT  O'  DOORS 


WORLD  OF  DREAM 

THERE'S  the  morning's  roseate  hue, 

There's  the  sunlight's  golden  glow. 
There's  the  night  tide  and  the  dew, 

And  the  gentle  winds  that  blow. 
There's  the  shadows  in  the  wood, 

There's  the  music  of  the  stream, 
And  God's  golden  solitude 

In  the  world  whereof  I  dream. 

There's  the  forest's  leafy  ranks, 

Where  the  shadows  come  and  go ; 
There's  the  fern  embowered  banks, 

With  the  silver  streams  aflow. 
And  to  while  the  hours  along, 

Through  the  shadow  and  the  gleam, 
There's  a  wealth  of  rippling  song 

In  the  world  whereof  I  dream. 

There's  green  vales  that  stretch  away, 

And  the  woodland's  bud  and  flower, 
There's  the  golden  dream  of  day, 

There's  the  gentle  twilight  hour. 
There's  the  tender  peace  at  night, 

Kissed  by  distant  stars  agleam, 
There  is  hope,  and  joy,  and  light 

In  the  world  whereof  I  dream. 


THE  LAND  OF  OUT  O'  DOORS 


MY  KIN 

GIVE  me  the  forest  spirit 

I  know  when  the  world  began ; 
For  I  hark  through  the  eons  faded 

To  the  call  of  the  primal  man. 
And  the  half-forgotten  pictures 

Of  the  wood,  and  the  field,  and  the  stream 
I  see  again  in  the  haunts  of  men, 

Like  a  wraith  in  memory's  dream. 

Give  me  the  verdant  woodland, 

Give  me  its  shadows  kind. 
The  song  of  the  singing  waters — 

The  sigh  of  the  forest  wind. 
For  I  hear  their  siren  voices 

Call  'mid  this  daily  strife, 
And  I  yearn  to  be  from  its  shackles  free 

Out  there  with  my  forest  life. 

Make  me  a  home  in  the  forest, 

Where  its  shadows  linger  deep — 
Where  truth  shall  know  my  spirit, 

And  the  pines  their  vigil  keep. 
Give  me  the  song  of  the  open 

I  hear  on  the  pipes  of  Pan — 
For  all  of  these — the  streams  and  the  trees 

Were  my  kin  since  the  world  began. 


10 


THE  OPEN 

I  WORSHIP  the  God  of  the  Open, 

I  fall  on  no  bended  knees, 
But  quiet  I  stand  in  solitude's  land 

And  list  to  the  choir  of  the  trees. 
I  see  the  dim  aisles  of  the  forest,  ' 

I  feel  the  caress  of  its  sod, 
And  stalwart  and  straight  with  spirit  elate 

I  know  I  am  walking  with  God. 

I  pray  that  my  soul  may  be  humble 

And  true  as  it  stands  there  alone — 
That  I  may  be  part  and  know  in  my  heart 

The  brotherhood  of  a  stone. 
I  pray  to  the  God  of  the  Open 

That  my  spirit  may  grow  as  divine, 
And  as  fair  and  as  true  as  the  dome  of  its  blue 

And  as  sweet  as  the  fragrance  of  pine. 


11 


AUTUMN'S  WONDERLAND 

IT  spills  its  joyous  color 

From  out  its  saffron  seas, 
And  bears  to  hill  and  valley 

Its  golden  argosies. 
In  stretch  of  field  and  woodland 

It  paints  with  beauty's  hand 
The  glory  of  the  Autumn 

In  Autumn's  wonderland. 

O'er  hillside  and  o'er  valley, 

Amid  the  flaming  trees, 
Its  subtle  hand  is  weaving 

Its  wondrous  imagries. 
The  color  and  the  blending, 

As  though  some  god  had  planned 
The  beauty  in  the  picture 

Of  Autumn's  wonderland. 


12 


FISHIN' 

PLENTY  fun  a  layin'  round — 

Go  and  help  yerself, 
Don't  consist  in  lots  er  ground. 

No,  nor  worldly  pelf. 
Loads  of  it  both  far  and  near, 

Tell  yer  what  is  mine 
Jest  about  this  time  o'  year — 

Hook  an'  fishin'  line. 

World  is  plumb  chock  full  of  smiles 

Shinin'  in  the  sun 
Some  folks  kinder  goes  their  piles, 

On  a  dog  an'  gun. 
An'  I  s'pose  that  is  a  treat 

That  yer  count  most  fine, 
But  I'm  bettin'  it  can't  beat 

Hook  an'  fishin'  line. 

Plenty  joy  a  scattered  'bout, 

Mingled  up  with  health, 
You  can  have  it,  too,  without 

That  stuff  they  call  wealth. 
You  don't  need  no  int'rest  due, 

Nor  no  big  gold  mine, 
All  the  things  you  need  is  two — 

Hook  an'  fishin'  line. 


]3 


AUTO-INTOXICATION 

MY  automobile  is  making 

A  liar  out  of  me 
The  habit  is  a  growing 

I  can  plainly  see. 
When  I'm  talking  of  its  power, 

Or  its  speed  I  relate 
I'm  afraid  that  I'm  inclined 

To  exaggerate. 

Never  have  any  trouble, 

I'm  ready  to  confess, 
Every  time  when  I'm  a  talking 

Of  this  auto  I  possess. 
Engine's  always  running  perfect 

And  its  power,  oh  it's  great 
And  so  is  the  inclination 

To  exaggerate. 

Hardly  needs  any  water 

Doesn't  use  any  gas. 
And  if  you  could  hear  me  sputter 

Why  this  auto  is  the  "class." 
Takes  all  grades  even  the  steepest 

On  high — can't  you  see 
This  darn  automobile  is  making 

A  liar  out  of  me. 


ir*r* 

THE  LAND  OF  OUT  O'  DOORS 


MY  DREAM 

GIVE  me  no  dream  of  the  city, 

The  palace,  the  mill  or  the  mart ; 
I  would  rather  the  call  of  the  open 

Rang  clear  in  the  depths  of  my  heart. 
The  rustle  of  leaf  in  the  forest, 

The  song  of  the  wood  and  the  stream, 
The  voice  of  the  hill  and  the  valley — 

This  is  my  dream — my  dream. 

Give  me  no  gold  of  the  toiler, 

Gleaned  in  his  house  of  clay ; 
I  would  rather  the  peace  that  lingers 

Over  each  woodland  way. 
The  glint  of  the  sun  in  the  branches, 

The  night  and  its  stars  agleam, 
The  voice  of  the  breeze  in  the  woodland  trees, 

This  is  my  dream — my  dream. 

Give  me  no  sound  of  the  traffic 

And  strife  of  the  city's  kind, 
I  would  rather  the  woodland  whispers, 

The  balm  of  the  forest  wind. 
The  song  of  the  bird  in  the  open, 

The  lilt  of  the  shaded  stream, 
And  the  charm  that  lies  in  the  open  skies 

This  is  my  dream — my  dream. 


15 


THE  LAND  OF  OUT  O'  DOORS 


A  PRAYER 

MAKE  me,  Lord,  broad — broad  as  Thy  plains, 

Keep  my  heart  light  as  the  dew. 
Make  my  life  pure  as  the  air  after  rains. 

Lift  up  my  soul  to  the  true. 
Make  the  way  light  my  footsteps  shall  find. 

Balm  of  the  bud  and  the  tree, 
Waft  on  the  wings  of  the  whispering  wind 

For  comradeship's  joy  with  me. 

Make  me  as  free  as  the  bird  in  the  wood, 

Keep  my  path  true  and  as  fair. 
Breathe  the  sweet  peace  of  Thy  own  solitude 

Over  my  spirit  of  care. 
Firm  as  the  hills  as  they  stand  through  the  day, 

Help  me  to  stand  against  strife. 
World  where  Thy  beautiful  law  holds  sway — 

Make  me  a  part  of  its  life. 

Make  me  as  broad  as  the  forest  at  noon, 

Mingling  its  shadow  and  light. 
Make  me  as  calm  as  that  hour  when  the  moon 

Silvers  the  shimmering  night. 
Steadfastly  true  as  Thy  sun  and  its  gleams, 

Help  me  to  strive  for  the  best, 
And  then,  with  the  song  of  the  winds  and  the 
streams, 

Sing  me  to  sleep  and  to  rest. 


16 


THE  LAND  OF  OUT  O'  DOORS 


TRIFLES 

A  LITTLE  journey  through  the  years — 

A  little  laughter  on  the  way 
To  vanquish  paltry  human  fears; 

A  little  love  to  light  the  day. 
A  little  hope  that  in  the  din 

Of  life,  we  play  a  noble  part — 
A  little  peace  to  dwell  within 

The  silent  chambers  of  the  heart. 

A  little  joy  that  we  may  cast 

Upon  some  fellow  mortal's  day; 
And  as  the  fleeting  years  go  past 

A  little  truth  to  point  the  way. 
To  help  a  brother  in  the  strife 

A  little  cheer  heart  given  free, 
And  on  the  sordid  things  of  life 

A  little  of  love's  alchemy. 

A  little  faith  as  we  go  through 

The  years  that  mark  our  little  span 
A  little  tolerance  to  view 

The  motives  of  a  fellow  man. 
A  little  courage  in  the  fight — 

A  little  aim  to  do  the  best 
To  live  for  gentleness  and  right — 

And  after  all  a  little  rest 


17 


THE  LAND  OF  OUT  O'  DOORS 


THE  OLD  MOUNTAIN  ROAD 

WE  hewed  all  its  timbers  of  fir  and  of  pine, 
And  set  it  up  there  in  the  sunlight  ashine, 
Yes,  rude  in  its  fashion  but  homelike  and  good, 
By  the  old  mountain  roadway  in  silence  it  stood, 
And  when  it  was  finished  each  hope  we  bestowed 
Was  the  hope  of  the  peace  of  the  old  mountain 
road. 

We  builded  it  there  away  from  the  strife 
And  stress  and  commotion  of  the  wild  city  life. 
Our  days  all  were  peaceful  and  our  nights  all 

aglow 
With   the    quiet   sereneness   that    Heaven   must 

know. 

And  such  was  the  manner  of  life  as  it  flowed 
In  our  home  by  the  side  of  the  old  mountain  road. 

But  it's  changed,  ah,  it's  changed  from  this  noble 

estate 

And  even  the  mountains  have  grown  up-to-date, 
Now  the  gasoline's  smelling,  and  all  the  day  long 
All  you  hear  is  the  honk  of  the  darn  auto  horn, 
And  the  dust  from  those  autos  has  swamped  our 

abode 
That  stands  by  the  side  of  the  old  mountain  road. 


18 


THE  LAND  OF  OUT  O'  DOORS 


JEST  FISHIN' 

NOT H IN'  seems  to  me  so  good, 

As  jest  fishin' 
Seems  I'm  with  my  brotherhood 

Jest  fishin' 

Fly  a  floatin'  on  the  stream 
Sunlight  ever 'where  agleam 
World's  as  quiet  as  a  dream 

Jest  fishin'. 

Far  away  from  all  the  strife, 

Jest  fishin'. 
Yes  sir,  this  is  sure  the  life, 

Jest  fishin'. 

All  the  buds  and  leaves  ashine 
An'  the  odor  of  the  pine 
Makes  the  old  world  seem  divine, 

Jest  fishin'. 

An'  I'll  say  I'm  thinkin'  this, 

Jest  fishin'. 
My  idea  of  perfect  bliss, 

Is  fishin'. 

An'  when  it  comes  I  have  to  die, 
I  hope  that  somewhere  places  lie 
In  that  great  world  beyond  the  sky 

For  fishin'. 


19 


THE  LAND  OF  OUT  O'  DOORS 


GOD  OF  THE  OPEN 

I  AM  the  God  of  the  Open, 

Sunlight  and  shadow  are  mine. 
The  tint  of  the  trees  and  the  tone  of  the  breeze 

Are  framed  in  my  own  design. 
Out  of  my  might  has  arisen, 

Out  of  my  epochal  dreams 
The  shimmering  heights — the  shadows  and  lights 

And  the  lilt  of  the  murmuring  streams. 

I  am  the  God  of  the  Open, 

Out  where  the  grim  mountains  lay 
Rock-ribbed  and  true,  'neath  the  dome  of  the  blue, 

I  hold  my  scepter  and  sway. 
The  crash  of  the  thunder  a  roaring, 

The  flash  of  the  lightning  is  mine, 
And  yet  I  am  known  by  the  zephyrs'  soft  tone 

And  the  incense  of  fir  and  of  pine. 

I  am  the  God  of  the  Open, 

Out  where  my  wonders  adorn, 
The  traffickings  cease,  and  the  tidings  of  peace 

Out  of  my  travail  are  born. 
To  you  who  are  heartsick  and  weary, 

To  you  who  for  quietude  pine, 
Come  worship  the  God  of  the  Open 

And  sit  in  the  heart  of  its  shrine. 


20 


THE  LAND  OF  OUT  O'  DOORS 


I  AM  CONTENT 

I  AM  content 

To  let  the  path  of  life 
That  winds  for  me 

Be  fashioned  as  it  may 
So  that  it  be 

A  part  of  open  ways  that  trace 
The  hillside's  bloom  the  woodland's  tender  grace. 

I  am  content 

To  bear  through  weary  hours 
The  heat  of  day 

And  count  the  burden  light 
If  once,  but  once  I  may 
The  shadows  of  the  forest  find 
And  hear  the  whispering  of  the  forest  wind. 

I  am  content 

Through  stress  and  storm  and  strife 
Though  it  shall  be 

To  bear  it  to  the  end 
If  Fate's  decree 
Shall  make  my  soul  but  know 
The  flush  of  dawn  the  sunset's  fading  glow. 

I  am  content 

To  know  the  traffic's  sway 
In  crowded  mart 

So  that  throughout  it  all 
I  keep  my  heart 

And  catch  again,  again  the  gleam 
That  gilds  the  forest  way  and  lights  the  stream. 


21 


THE  LAND  OF  OUT  O'  DOORS 


MOTHER 

WHEN  I  bin  swimmin'  all  day  long, 

An'  had  a  fight  or  two, 
An'  come  home  in  the  evenin'  time 

A-feelin'  mad  and  blue; 
There's  just  one  thing  that  always  seems 

My  angry  thoughts  to  smother ; 
An'  I  forgit  'em  when  I  see 

The  smilin'  face  of  mother. 

An'  father  sez  when  he  comes  home 

From  troubles  on  the  street ; 
He  sez  that  gentle  smile,  it  makes 

The  whole  blame  world  look  sweet. 
An'  Carlo's  dog  talk  sez  so,  too, 

An'  so  does  sis  and  brother; 
I  tell  you  they  ain't  nothin'  like 

The  smilin'  face  of  mother. 

It  kinder  brightens  every  place, 

An'  I  know  what  I  know, 
That  when  I  die  and  go  away — 

Coz  we  all  have  to  go — 
I'll  need  one  proof  to  show  me  where 

I'm  at,  don't  need  no  other, 
I'll  know  it's  Heaven  when  I  see 

The  smilin'  face  of  mother. 


22 


THE  SETTLER 

THINE  is  the  warrior's  blood  undaunted  quite, 
The  vast  unknown  shall  ope  for  thee  and  thine, 
The  untrod  waste  thy  touch  shall  wait  benign, 

The  forest  gloom  laugh  welcome  to  thy  light. 

Thy  will  shall  stand  above  the  desert  blight, 
The  budding  rose  beside  thy  pathway  shine, 
Where  thy  unconquered  faith  hath  builded  fine, 

And  reared  the  wide  dominion  of  its  might. 

The  plain  shall  bloom  where'er  thy  foot  hath  trod ; 

The  forest  gleam  beneath  thy  honest  toil. 
Where  gaunt  and  grim  the  desert  grasses  nod 
The  wastes  shall  lift  their  wealth  of  glittering 

spoil, 
As  tho'  some  god  had  wrought  the  beauteous 

thing — 
This  is  thy  kingdom  and  thou  art  its  king. 


23 


TAHOE  -  YOSEMITE 

THEY  kin  rave  about  their  scenery 
In  furrin  lands  and  all, 

But  fer  us  to  take  a  back  seat 
I  guess  there  ain't  no  call. 

Fer  right  here  in  our  front  yard 
When  you  talk  of  scenery, 
Is  the  greatest  that  can  be 
Aye  the  finest  you  could  see, — 
YOSEMITE. 

They  kin  rave  about  the  beauty 
Of  the  Alps  and  all  that  stuff ; 

But  when  it  comes  to  beauty 
I  guess  we're  up  to  snuff. 

Fer  right  here  at  our  doorway 
Where  the  great  Sierras  glow 
Is  the  finest,  purtiest  show 
That  a  mortal  e'er  could  know, — 
LAKE  TAHOE. 


24 


PIPES  O'  PAN 


OH  Pipes  o'  Pan,  oh  Pipes  o'  Pan, 

I  hear  you  on  the  busy  street, 
Above  the  city's  myriad  calls, 

Amid  the  rush  of  busy  feet, 
I  marvel  as  your  music  falls. 

And  here  beside  the  traffic's  roar, 
Above  the  strife  the  city  fills, 

I  hear  the  sea  sing  to  the  shore, 
I  see  the  sunlight  on  the  hills — 

And  wonder  at  your  elfish  plan, 
Oh  Pipes  o'  Pan,  oh  Pipes  o'  Pan. 

Oh  Pipes  o'  Pan,  oh  Pipes  o'  Pan, 

Why  do  I  see  the  shining  trees 
Beyond  the  walls  of  sordid  stone  ? 

Why  do  I  hear  your  melodies 
In  tone  and  subtle  undertone — 

Here  there  is  but  the  busy  mart, 
Arid  yet,  and  yet,  somehow  it  seems 

I  hear  the  singing  in  my  heart 
Of  desert  winds  and  woodland  streams, 

And  ah,  the  vistas  which  I  scan 
Oh  Pipes  o'  Pan,  oh  Pipes  o'  Pan. 


25 


LAND  OF  DREAM 


THE  snow  is  on  the  passes, 
Over  roads  and  trails  and  all, 

And  the  mighty  grasp  of  winter 
Holds  Sierra  in  its  thrall. 

But  sitting  by  the  fireside 

My  thoughts  with  visions  teem, 

And  Fm  living  in  the  Summer 
Land  of  Dream. 

I  know  the  storm  king's  ruling 
With  his  iron  hand  of  gloom 

Where  the  white  trails  were  winding 
And  the  dogwood  was  in  bloom. 

But  I  hear  the  pines  a  whisp'ring 
Close  beside  a  singing  stream, 

And  Fm  living  in  the  Summer 
Land  of  Dream. 

The  wind  is  at  the  casement 
And  upon  the  window  pane, 

And  I  hear  the  steady  fall 
Of  pattering  rain. 

But  I  only  see  the  forest 
In  the  sunlight  all  agleam, 

And  Fm  living  in  the  Summer 
Land  of  Dream. 


26 


^ 

THE  LAND  OF  OUT  O'  DOORS 


KHAKI  FOLK 

THE  town  is  full  of  khaki  folk 

Headed  for  the  hills. 
Headed  for  the  spaces  far 

That  cure  the  city's  ills. 
Headed  for  the  long,  long  trail 

Where  the  golden  sunlight  pours, 
For  the  open  ways  and  the  sunny  days 

Of  the  fragrant  out  o'doors. 

The  old  machine  is  loaded  down 

Until  you  think  she'd  choke ; 
But  there  're  smiles  upon  the  faces 

Of  the  happy  khaki  folk. 
They're  headed  for  the  white  trails 

The  lilt  of  woodland  streams, 
The  scent  of  pine  so  pure  and  fine 

The  Summer  land  of  dreams. 

They  know  the  guerdon  of  the  quest, 

They  know  the  quiet  skies ; 
They  hear  the  gentle  voice  of  rest 

In  Nature's  lullabies. 
They  know  the  forest  whispers 

Though  ne'er  a  word  is  spoke, — 
They're  off  today  for  the  great  white  way 

Oh  happy  khaki  folk. 


27 


THE  LAND  OF  OUT  O'  DOORS 


TRY  A  SMILE 

IN  your  journey  through  the  years, 

Use  a  smile. 
It  will  weave  a  hope  from  fears, 

Will  a  smile. 

There's  a  power  that  somehow  brings 
To  the  heart  that  ever  sings 
All  the  old  world's  goodly  things — 

It's  a  smile. 

If  the  clouds  o'ercast  the  sky, 

Use  a  smile. 
They  will  vanish  by  and  by, 

With  a  smile. 

Though  the  world  with  woe  seems  rife 
You  can  challenge  all  the  strife 
That  comes  creeping  into  life 

With  a  smile. 

If  the  world  seems  upside  down, 

Use  a  smile. 
For  it  won't  help  things  to  frown — 

Try  a  smile. 

There's  a  hope  that  stays  to  bless ; 
You  can  win  the  sweet  caress 
Of  the  fickle  god  success, 

With  a  smile. 


28 


THE  LAND  OF  OUT  O'  DOORS 


If  you  think  you've  missed  the  mark, 

Use  a  smile; 
If  your  life  seems  in  the  dark, 

Why,  just  smile. 
Don't  give  up  in  any  fight ; 
There's  a  coming  day  that's  bright; 
There's  a  dawn  beyond  the  night, 

If  you  smile. 


29 


THE  LAND  OF  OUT  O'  DOORS 


THE  FOREST 

GREEN,  and  brown,  and  gray,  and  blue, 

Purple  haze  and  spatter  of  red, 
Glint  of  gold  as  it  filters  through 

Swaying  branches  overhead. 
Soft  and  sweet  the  song  of  stream, 

Shadows  that  sway  and  change  and  creep — 
World  of  silence,  world  of  dream — 

This  is  the  heart  of  the  forest  deep. 

Green,  and  brown,  and  gray,  and  blue, 

Odor  of  tree  and  breath  of  mould. 
Over  the  grass  the  gleam  of  dew, 

Stretches  of  verdure  fold  on  fold. 
Through  the  branches,  sky  agleam ; 

Here  below,  the  sod  asleep — 
World  of  silence,  world  of  dream — 

This  is  the  heart  of  the  forest  deep. 


30 


THE  LAND  OF  OUT  O'  DOORS 


TAHOE  SNOW 

OH,  Tahoe,  I  have  seen  thy  beauty  crowned 
In  the  soft  glory  of  the  summer's  glow. 
In  sun  and  shadow  I  have  grown  to  know 

The  wonder,  aye,  the  grandeur  of  thy  ground. 

And  yet  today  as  I  have  seen  you  gowned 
In  all  the  glory  of  the  gleaming  snow, 
It  is,  in  fact,  that  I  first  seem  to  know 

The  radiant  truth  with  which  thy  life  is  bound. 

The  brooks  are  quiet,  all  the  wood  sounds  cease, 
The   singing  pines  their  summer  songs  have 
spent, 

The  very  air  is  fraught  with  tongues  of  peace, 
The  very  place,  a  place  of  sacrament. 

And  as  I  stand  in  the  white  silence  here 

Somehow  I  seem  to  know  that  God  is  near. 


31 


THE  LAND  OF  OUT  O'  DOORS 


VACATION 

WHEN  the  city's  ways  are  dusty 
And  the  weather's  growing  hot, 
And  you're  tired  of  the  sordid  days 

That  fate  seems  to  allot; 
Where  the  rush  for  gold  and  power 

Is  the  only  thing  you  see, 
And  you  yearn  for  open  spaces 

Where  the  world  is  broad  and  free — 
Why,  pack  your  bag  and  baggage, 
And  I  tell  you  where  you  steal 
To  the  woods 
And  to  the  open 

With  your  automobile. 

Far  beyond  the  city's  murmur, 

And  its  traffic  and  its  roar, 
There's  a  dwelling  bearing  "Peace" 

Upon  the  lintel  of  its  door ; 
There's  a  stream  that  sings  beside  it 

And  in  branches  just  above 
Birds  a-flutter  in  the  sunlight 
Caroling  their  tales  of  love. 
Then  it's  here's  the  spot  you're  seeking 
Where  an  honest  joy  you'll  feel 
In  the  woods 
And  in  the  open 

With  your  automobile. 


32 


THE  LAND  OF  OUT  O'  DOORS 


You'll  forget  the  city's  rumble, 

Its  worry  and  its  care, 
And  the  joy  of  life  and  living 

You  will  gather  everywhere — 
In  the  fields  and  flowing  waters, 
In  the  light  winds'  gentle  sigh, 
In  the  odor  of  the  woodlands, 
In  the  trees  and  in  the  sky — 
And  you'll  hold  within  your  spirit 
All  the  dreams  the  gods  reveal 
In  the  woods 
And  in  the  open 

With  your  automobile. 


33 


THE  LAND  OF  OUT  O'  DOORS 


THE  PIONEER 

SOMEWHERE,  O  earth,  thy  tangled  woods 

O'ertop  the  lonely  plain. 
Somewhere,  amid  dim  solitudes, 

Thy  mists  of  silence  reign. 
Yet  he  shall  come  with  purpose  high 

Deep  in  his  valiant  heart, 
And  where  thy  purple  vistas  lie 

Shall  stand  the  pulsing  mart. 

Somewhere  primeval  echo  dies 

Across  the  wastes  untrod, 
And  wild  and  far  and  lone  there  lies 

The  wilderness  of  God. 
But  he  shall  come  uncouth  and  plain, 

His  burning  soul  adream, 
And  where  thy  virgin  waste  hath  lain 

The  fragrant  farmstead  gleam. 

Tho'  far  and  high  thy  treasure  lie, 

Enwrapt  with  hazard,  still 
Before  thy  face  he  shall  defy 

Thy  might  to  balk  his  will. 
For  he  shall  come  as  morning  light, 

And  earth  rock  ribbed  and  sere 
Shall  yield  the  largess  of  its  might 

To  him,  the  pioneer. 


34 


THE  LAND  OF  OUT  O'  DOORS 


KINDRED 

THE  vapors  rising  from  the  hill — 

The  perfume  in  the  air, 
The  essences  the  wood-gods  spill 

Through  sun  and  shadow  there. 

The  glint  of  morn  across  the  plain, 

The  evening's  majesty, 
Deep  o'er  my  soul  the  charm  hath  lain 

Of  all  their  witchery. 

The  mountain  glowing  in  its  might, 

The  valley's  smile  below, 
The  silver  waters  singing  flight, 

The  sunlit  fields  aglow. 

I  read  their  message  in  the  woods, 

I  hear  it  in  the  breeze, 
Their  voice  speaks  in  the  solitudes — 

For  kindred  all  are  these. 


35 


^^ 

THE  LAND  OF  OUT  Of  DOORS 


THE  PINE 

THE  pine  is  such  a  lovely  tree 
Clothed  in  its  woodland  majesty. 

Its  roots  are  buried  in  the  sod, 
Its  arms  are  lifted  up  to  God. 

And  to  the  forest's  utmost  ends 
The  incense  of  its  being  wends. 

It  seems  to  speak  to  you  and  me 

Of  Tahoe  and  Yosemite. 
And  all  the  high  Sierra  fold, 

Their  beauty  and  their  wealth  untold, 
The  peace  and  quiet  of  the  wood 

The  subtle  joy  of  solitude. 

It  stands  so  tall  and  straight  and  true 
Beneath  the  arching  dome  of  blue. 

And  ah,  it  seems,  it  seems  to  me 
That  I  would  most  inspired  be, 

Could  I  but  make  so  fair  and  fine 
A  poem  lovely  as  a  pine. 


36 


THE  LAND  OF  OUT  O'  DOORS 


THE  SIERRAS 

O'ER  thee  the  tides  of  the  eons  have  run, 

Sunlight  and  shadow  in  myriad  design. 
Ages  and  ages  of  storm  and  of  sun 

Have  left  thee  still  standing  serene  and  benign. 
Still  lifting  thy  crests  to  the  light  of  the  skies, 

Still    harboring   songs   of   the   trees   and   the 

streams, 
From  out  of  the  Past  as  its  memory  dies 

Rebuilding  the  charm  of  present  days'  dreams. 

O'er  thee  have  fallen  the  slow  sands  of  time 

Futile  to  mar  thy  perennial  delight. 
The    skies    have    looked    down    on    the    picture 
sublime, 

And  marvelled,  I  know,  at  thy  loveliness,  quite. 
Thou,  gift  of  the  ages — thou  wondrous  land, 

Snow-capped  or  unfolding  thy  verdure-kissed 

sod, 
Lead  me  to  your  heart,  take  me  by  the  hand, 

And  teach  me  the  beauty  and  grandeur  of  God. 


37 


THE  LAND  OF  OUT  O'  DOORS 


THE  INEVITABLE 

HE  never  went  a  hunting 

And  forgot  to  take  his  gun ; 
And  if  he  shot  a  dozen  quail 

He'd  not  tell  you  twenty-one 
He  was  just  an  honest  sportsman, 

Who,  no  matter  how  they  flew — 
You  could  depend  upon  it — 

He  would  tell  you  what  was  true. 

He  never  walked  along  the  street 

With  ducks  he  had  to  buy, 
The  birds  he  carried  homeward 

He  brought  down  from  the  sky. 
If  he  shot  four  he'd  say  no  more, 

Nor  stretch  it  into  eight 
He  was  just  an  honest  sportsman 

Who  would  not  prevaricate. 

The  others  always  looked  to  him 

As  quite  the  model  kind — 
The  really  honest  sportsman 

That  you  so  seldom  find. 
But  once  he  went  a  fishing 

And  his  friends  are  now  dismayed; 
He  proved  to  be  just  common  clay 

He  told  how  much  it  weighed. 


38 


THE  TRAILS 

THE  white  trails  are  calling  me, 

The  Spring  is  in  the  air. 
The  falling  rain  on  window  pane 

No  longer  patters  there. 
I'm  tuning  up  the  old  machine, 

I'm  doctoring  its  ills — 
For  the  white  trails  are  calling  me 

And  I'm  yearning  for  the  hills. 

The  old  roads  are  winding  far, 

Oh  far  away  from  here. 
The  singing  streams  still  hold  the  dreams 

They  held  of  yesteryear. 
I'm  fixing  up  the  old  machine — 

The  memory  of  it  thrills — 
Oh  the  old  roads  are  calling  me 

And  I'm  going  to  the  hills. 


39 


ACHIEVEMENT 

MAN  made  the  city,  stone  on  stone, 

The  strife  of  the  sordid  street, 
Black  with  the  gloom  its  huge  walls  own, 

Rife  with  the  rush  of  its  feet. 
Grimly  and  grandly  his  monument  gleams — 

But  God  made  the  hills  and  the  streams. 

Man  made  the  city,  its  myriad  ways 

Bereft  of  cheer  and  of  light, 
The  strife  of  its  endless  noisesome  days, 

The  glare  of  its  tawdry  night, 
The  pride  of  its  paltry  panoplies — 

But  God  made  the  mountains  and  the  trees. 

Man  made  the  city,  crowded,  erect, 
The  hives  of  his  housing  stand — 

Mammon,  the  master  architect, 
Mammon,  the  master  hand. 

Mammon  that  makes  and  in  making  mars — 
But  God  made  the  sun  and  the  stars. 


40 


THE  CALL 


,  the  striving  spirit  falters, 

All  the  city  traffics  pall ; 
From  the  radiant  lips  of  nature 

I  hear  the  primal  call. 
Calling  me  to  sweet  communion 

With  the  open  solitude ; 
With  the  sound  of  rippling  waters 

And  the  shadows  of  the  wood. 

Aye,  I  hear  the  voice  a-calling, 

Loudly  in  the  city's  strife, 
From  the  hillside  and  the  valley, 

Sweet  with  promises  of  life. 
Like  a  siren  mother  calling, 

O'er  the  woodland,  o'er  the  hill, 
And  I  yearn  for  open  spaces 

Where  the  sunlight  lingers  still. 


41 


THE  LAND  OF  OUT  O'  DOORS 


MY  HOME 

I  WILL  build  me  a  home  in  the  woodland 

Far  from  the  turmoil  and  strife; 
Deep  in  the  heart  of  the  forest, 

Where  I  may  be  part  of  its  life. 
I  will  fashion  the  timbers  and  rafters 

From  trees  of  the  open,  forsooth. 
I  will  hang  on  the  walls  of  my  dwelling 

The  trappings  of  Love  and  of  Truth. 

The  door  of  my  home  will  be  open 

To  the  sun  and  the  wind's  minstrelsy, 
And  my  dwelling  alone  in  the  forest, 

Like  the  forest  alone,  will  be  free. 
It  will  stand  in  the  shade  of  the  woodland 

Where  the  strife  and  the  traffickings  cease, 
And  the  walls  of  my  home  in  the  forest 

Shall  harbor  the  Angels  of  Peace. 


42 


* 

THE  LAND  OF  OUT  O'  DOORS 


TWILIGHT 

WHEN  twilight  falls, 
The  hush  of  day  on  Nature's  lips 

Enraptured  lies, 
With  gold  the  parting  sun  god  tips 

The  sapphire  skies. 
Peace  brooding  o'er  the  quietude, 

The  sense  enthralls — 
Fair  Nature's  radiant  interlude — 

When  twilight  falls. 

When  twilight  falls, 
The  dim  world  seems  some  dream  of  old. 

All  beauty-kissed; 
Spun  from  faint  threads  of  rose  and  gold 

And  amethyst. 
The  roseate  tints  that  gild  the  skies, 

My  spirit  calls, 
And  all  their  charm  upon  me  lies — 

When  twilight  falls. 


43 


THE  LAND  OF  OUT  O'  DOORS 


THANKSGIVING 

I'M  thankful  for  all  the  attendant 
And  various  things  as  they  stand, 

For  the  joy  and  the  strife  that  mingles  my  life 
And  the  myriad  blessings  at  hand. 

But  if  I  would  say  what  is  true 

I'm  most  thankful,  old  auto,  for  you. 

You  bear  me  away  from  the  city, 

Away  from  its  glamor  and  strife, 
Out  into  the  seas  of  the  sunlight  and  trees, 

And  whisper  of  truth  and  of  life 
'Neath  its  wide  reaching  spaces  of  blue, 
And  I'm  thankful,  old  auto,  for  you. 

You  bear  me  out  into  the  open, 

Which,  in  truth,  is  the  Master's  design, 

Where  the  breath  of  the  breeze  by  the  shimmering 

trees 
Is  laden  with  odor  of  pine, 

You  lift  up  my  soul  to  the  true 

And  I'm  thankful,  old  auto,  for  you. 


44 


THE  LAND  OF  OUT  O'  DOORS 


PURPOSE 

THOU  art  success,  who  holds  thy  dream  divine 
Amid  the  battle  stands  undaunted  quite. 
Age  may  not  wither  nor  bedim  thy  sight, 

Nor  grim  defeat  enwreath  thy  face  benign. 

Past  and  the  present  all  alike  are  thine, 

Adown  the  years  still  steadfast  shines  thy  light, 
Above  the  gloom  of  failure's  death  and  blight, 

As  thy  unconquered  gleam  shall  ever  shine. 

Time  hath  not  measured  in  its  grasp  thy  might, 
Nor  wrought  its  will  upon  thy  valiant  heart. 

Thy  pathway  leads  to  life's  exalted  height, 
And  with  thee  rests  alone  achievement's  part. 

Before  thee  failure's  faltering  footsteps  flee, 

And  thine  is  the  white  star  of  destiny. 


45 


THE  LAND  OF  OUT  O'  DOORS 


GOD 

IT  isn't  the  temple,  stone  on  stone ; 
It  isn't  the  organ's  wonderful  tone; 
It  isn't  the  colored  window's  sight 
That  darkens  the  heavens'  broad  daylight, 
But  the  sound  of  the  breeze 
In  the  shimmering  trees, 

And  the  miracle  ever  up-sprung  from  the  sod- 
That  is  God. 

It  isn't  the  altars  made  of  clay; 
It  isn't  the  worship  that  wears  for  a  day ; 
It  isn't  the  hymn  whose  sound  is  rife 
And  meaningless  in  a  world  of  strife, 
But  the  spirit  that  gleams 
By  the  winds  and  the  streams, 
And  the  mystery  cloaked  in  the  commonest  clod- 
That  is  God. 


46 


THE  LAND  OF  OUT  O'  DOORS 


THE  KINGS 

I  AM  the  king  of  motor dom, 

Without  me  the  parts  would  rust 
And  the  motor's  heart  would  only  be  part 

Of  the  gathering  age's  dust. 
The  motion  of  all  of  its  gearings 

Minus  my  presence,  would  cease — 
I  am  the  king  of  motordom, 

I  am  the  great  king  Grease. 

I  am  the  king  of  motordom, 

I  am  the  vital  part, 
The  blood  that  rains  through  the  auto's  veins 

And  into  its  very  heart. 
What  would  it  be  without  me? 

Part  of  the  junk  heap's  spoil — 
I  am  the  king  of  motordom 

I  am  the  great  king  Oil. 

I  am  the  king  of  motordom, 

The  king  by  right  divine ; 
The  power  that  sends  to  the  trail's  far  ends 

Is  mine  and  only  mine. 
For  what  are  grease  and  oilings, 

If  I  say  "you  shall  not  pass" — 
I  am  the  kind  of  motordom, 

I  am  the  great  king  Gas. 


47 


itrw*wTRrr*3ntirwr&Ttr^ 

THE  LAND  OF  OUT  O'  DOORS 


GOOD  ENOUGH  FOR  ME 

I  NEVER  got  religion. 

Like  you  hear  them  talk  about, 
The  kind  that  when  you  git  it 

You  have  to  sing  and  shout. 
But  up  here  in  these  mountains 

In  a  quiet  sort  of  way, 
There's  a  sorta  holy  feelin' 

That  fills  me  night  and  day; 
An'  as  I  think  about  it, 

Why,  ez  fur  ez  I  kin  see 
This  religion  of  the  open 

Is  good  enough  fur  me. 

I  never  seen  those  temples, 

They've  built  throughout  the  land 
That  rear  their  lofty  steeples 

Down  where  the  cities  stand 
But  I  know  these  rock-ribbed  canyons 

And  the  streams  that  sing  between. 
An'  I  guess  they  make  a  temple 

'Bout  ez  fine  ez  ever  seen, 
Where  God  has  been  the  architect 

And  where  he's  builded  free, 
The  temple  of  the  open 

And  it's  good  enough  fur  me. 


48 


•arv  tr*t 

THE  LAND  OF  OUT  O'  DOORS 


I  never  heard  those  organs, 

'Bout  which  they  seem  to  blow, 
That  they  put  up  in  their  churches 

Down  where  the  cities  grow. 
An'  I  guess  I  wouldn't  understand 

Their  highbrow  harmonies, 
Like  I  do  the  gentle  music 

Of  the  streams  and  of  the  trees ; 
But  I  love  the  woodland  whispers, 

An*  God,  it  seems  to  me 
Plays  the  music  of  the  open, 

An'  it's  good  enough  fur  me. 


49 


THE  LAND  OF  OUT  O'  DOORS 


OLD  FASHIONED 

THE  old  farm  house  was  gray  with  age, 
The  porch  was  long  and  low, 

The  vines  that  grew  about  it  seemed 
Old  fashioned,  too,  and  slow. 

The  barns  and  buildings  scattered  there 

About  the  old  estate, 
To  my  observing  eye  it  seemed 

Were  somewhat  out  of  date. 

The  lazy  fields  that  stretched  away 

Beneath  the  summer  glow, 
Seemed  fashioned  but  a  part  to  play 

In  dreams  of  long  ago. 

So  musing  o'er  these  quaint  and  queer 

Habiliments  of  grace 
I  vowed  the  people  I  would  know 

Of  this  old  fashioned  place. 

Just  then  the  owner  came  in  view, 

His  wife  was  lolling  back 
And  he  was  sitting  at  the  wheel 

Of  a  brand  new  Cadillac. 


50 


THE  LAND  OF  OUT  O'  DOORS 


FREEDOM 

I  WOULD  be  free  as  the  air  that  fills 

Mountain  and  gorge  aglow. 
Free  as  the  odor  of  the  hills 

Scenting  the  vales  below. 

I  would  be  free  as  the  breath  of  the  woods, 

Venting  its  fragrance  there. 
Free  as  the  virgin  solitudes 

Are  free  from  the  City's  care. 

I  would  be  free  as  the  wind  that  blows, 

Free  in  its  pranks  and  play. 
Free  as  the  bird  in  the  woodland  knows 

The  joy  of  its  song-spent  way. 

I  would  be  free — ah !  the  Spirit  calls — 
As  the  bud  and  the  bird  and  the  bee 

Shatter,  my  soul,  strife's  sordid  walls ! 
I  would  be  free — be  free! 


51 


THE  LAND  OF  OUT  O'  DOORS 


BACK  TO  TRUTH 

SKY  line  and  hill  line 

And  forest  line  for  me. 
Wide  waste  and  far  waste, 

Wind  ablowing  free. 
Long  roads,  white  roads, 

Dusty  roads  that  wind — 
Oh,  open  Heart  of  Nature, 

Pure  and  sweet  and  kind, 
Take  me  to  your  bosom 

From  sordid  ways  of  men, 
Back  to  youth  and  back  to  truth 

And  honesty  again. 

I  am  sick  of  canting  phrase, 

Hate  and  heresy. 
I  am  sick  of  all  the  world's 

Cheap  hypocrisy. 
Sick  of  sham  and  cult  and  pose, 

Sick  of  all  forsooth, 
Petty  little  perfidies 

Travesties  of  Truth. 
Dim  ways,  fragrant  ways 

Of  the  forest  part — 
Kindred  of  the  Ages 

Take  me  to  your  heart. 


52 


THE  LAND  OF  OUT  O'  DOORS 


Sweet  land,  still  land 

Where  the  gods  release 
From  the  azure  heavens 

Tapestries  of  Peace. 
Warp  and  woof  of  mountain, 

Tree  and  sun  and  stream — 
Take  me  to  your  bosom 

Treasure  of  your  dream, 
Take  me,  I  am  calling, 

From  the  haunts  of  men, 
Back  to  youth,  and  back  to  truth 

And  honesty  again. 


53 


THE  LAND  OF  OUT  O'  DOORS 


MY  FRIENDS 

MY  friends — my  friends — my  friends  are  these, 

The  streams,  the  mountains  and  the  trees ; 

Their  branches  by  the  breeze  fanned, 

The  verdant  stretch  of  forest  land, 

Beneath  God's  canopy  of  blue 

There  are  no  friends  more  staunch  or  true. 

My  friends,  the  mountains,  streams  and  trees 
Reflect  my  deeper  sympathies. 
They  speak  to  me  of  age  and  youth, 
They  speak  with  gentle  tongues  of  truth, 
Of  hope  and  love  as  deep  and  broad 
As  the  beneficence  of  God. 

They  seem,  above  the  sordid  strife 

To  show  the  finer  things  of  life, 

So  high  they  stand  above  the  crowd, 

And  in  my  heart — ah !   I  am  proud 

To  have  such  lovely  friends  as  these 

The  streams,  the  mountains  and  the  trees. 


54 


THE  LAND  OF  OUT  O'  DOORS 


THE  PAST 

THOUGH  lost  in  alien  dusks  that  front  the  high 

Interminable  barrier  of  the  dead, 

Still  lifts  thy  face  above  Time's  epochs  fled, 
As  memory  that  lives  and  cannot  die. 
And  still  above  the  dust  of  years  doth  lie 

The  phantom  light  that  wreathes  thy  glowing 
head, 

Against  thy  dark  horizon's  gleaming  red — 
A  steadfast  star  in  thy  remotest  sky. 

E'en  as  the  morn  upon  her  golden  wings, 
Bears  radiant  athwart  the  bourn  of  night 
The  glory  of  the  sun's  unconquered  gleam, 
You  shall  arise  from  out  the  dust  of  kings 
And  stand  alone  on  thy  exalted  height, 
The  wonder  and  the  joyance  of  a  dream. 


55 


THE  LAND  OF  OUT  O'  DOORS 


THE  HILLS 

WHEN  things  is  lookin'  badly  an'  your  liver's  out 

o'  gear, 
An'  the  face  uv  care  an'  worry  jest  commences  to 

appear ; 
I  jings,  I  ain't  no  doctor,  but  jest  this  I  wanter 

say, 
I've  got  a  small  perscription  that'll  drive  it  all 

away: 
Jest  leave  the  town  behind  yer  with  its  ferbelows 

an'  frills, 
An'  tog  up  in  yer  ruff  clos  an'  cum  out  among 

the  hills. 

You'll  fergit  about  the  city,  you'll  fergit  about  its 

care, 
In  the  peace  an'  in  the  beauty  that's  a-lingering 

everywhere. 
In  the  sunlight  an'  the  shadows,  in  the  wood  an' 

in  the  stream, 
Why  yer  life  will  seem  as  purty  an'  as  sweet  as 

any  dream. 
An'  yer  heart  will  take  unto  it  all  the  peace  that 

somehow  fills 
A  feller  that's  a-roamin'  out  here  among  the  hills. 


56 


THE  LAND  OF  OUT  O'  DOORS 


In  the  city's   sordid  pathways  you're   a  toiler, 

you're  a  clod ; 
Out  here  with  tree  an'  boulder  you're  a  man,  an' 

you're  a  god. 
An'  the  dewy  grass  will  greet  yer  as  yer  loiter  on 

the  way, 
While  within  the  shaded  woodland,  the  pipes  of 

Pan  at  play. 
They  will  soothe  the  weary  spirit,  they  will  banish 

all  life's  ills, 
An'  you'll  bless  the  happy  moment  you  came  out 

among  the  hills. 


57 


THE  LAND  OF  OUT  O'  DOORS 


SOLITUDE 

THY  reign  is  mightier  than  the  course  of  kings, 
The  paltry  splendor  of  whose  futile  pride 
The  glories  of  thy  silent  stars  deride, 

And  mock  the  dust  that  Time's   dethronement 
brings, 

Thy  realm  knows  unconfined  the  face  of  things. 
Far  flung  across  the  wastes  of  time  and  tide. 
And  in  thy  inmost  heart  there  doth  abide 

A  peace  beyond  hope's  fond  imaginings. 

We  know  that  far  thy  dim  horizons  lie, 

E'en  as  Infinity  lies  wide  and  far. 
Thy  broad  domain  the  hills,  the  plain,  the  sky, 

And  never  night  but  somewhere  glows  thy  star. 
Above  the  course  of  years  thy  feet  have  trod, 
Thy  message  but  the  memory  of  God. 


58 


THE  LAND  OF  OUT  O'  DOORS 


PEACE 

I  SOUGHT  from  strife  and  sordid  ways, 
With  earnest  spirit,  my  release. 

And  still,  and  still  through  weary  days 
My  quest  was  Peace. 

In  city's  way,  and  crowded  mart — 
The  battle  ever  to  the  strong — 

I  sought  it  still  with  anxious  heart ; 
The  paths  were  long. 

I  sought  it  by  the  green  hillsides 

In  woods  where  sun  and  shadow  blent, 

And  here  I  found  that  Peace  abides 
In  calm  content. 

The  matin  song  of  woodland  bird 
Bore  Peace  within  its  sweet  refrain ; 

And  in  the  murmuring  streams  I  heard 
It  once  again. 

I  know  it  in  the  wood  aglow, 

And  further  seeking  I  may  cease, 

The  broad  fields  whisper  and  I  know 
That  here  is  Peace. 


59 


THE  LAND  OF  OUT  O'  DOORS 


SHIF'LESS  JIM 

KNEW  a  feller  queer  as  sin, 
Awkward  like  and  kinder  thin, 
Doin'  things  forever  wrong — 
When  he  walked,  jest  shuffled  'long. 

That's  him 

Shif  less  Jim. 

Farmin'  things  out  in  the  sun, 
Farmin'  work  wuz  never  done ; 
Went  about  most  slovenly, 
Didn't  care  much,  you  cud  see. 

That's  him 

Shif  less  Jim. 

Once — it  giv'  us  all  the  shocks, 
When  we  found  the  dred  smallpox 
Ketched  old  Barnes,  the  bachelor — 
No  one  would  go  near  his  door 

'Cept  Jim, 

Shif  less  Jim. 

Didn't  know  no  one  wuz  there 
Givin'  Barnes  the  best  uv  care, 
Till  he  got  all  cured  and  well, 
And  we  heard  the  old  chap  tell, 
With  a  vim 
'Bout  Shif  less  Jim. 


60 


THE  LAND  OF  OUT  O'  DOORS 


"Think  he's  shif'less?"  sez  he,  "hey! 
Think  you're  all  uv  finer  clay? 
Kickin'  'bout  the  way  he  goes, 
'Bout  his  work  and  'bout  his  clothes, 

Callin'  him 

Shif'less  Jim!" 

"But  I  reckon  when  ye  stand 
On  the  edge  of  judgment  land, 
And  the  Lord  selects  His  best, 
He'll  say  never  mind  the  rest, 
But  get  him, 
Shif'less  Jim." 


61 


THE  LAND  OF  OUT  O'  DOORS 


THE  BUILDER 

BUILD  well  thy  Spirit  House, 

With  many  rooms ;   give  space 

To  joy  and  truth  and  hope  and  gentle  sympathy 

But  leave  no  place  for  fear ; 

To  anger  bar  the  door  and  o'er  the  window 

Of  thy  inmost  soul  when  hate  is  nigh, 

Unfold  the  curtain  of  a  loving  thought. 

Build  in  the  inmost  valleys  of  thy  heart 

A  temple  to  the  God  of  Love, 

With  stone  hewn  from  the  Hills  of  Harmony. 

Use  in  thy  work  the  scented  wood 

That  grows  in  Freedom's  Land, 

And  place  within  its  halls 

The  shrine  of  Peace. 

Upon  the  walls  hang  tapestries 

Wove  from  the  thread  of  Kindly  Thought ! 

Fill  all  the  vases  of  thy  dreams 

With  buds  that  bloom  from  noble  impulses. 

Then  hast  thou  builded  'gainst  the  ravages  of 

Time 

A  work  of  infinite  achievement — 
"Coevel  with  Eternity," 
A  dwelling  place  of  Truth. 


62 


THE  HAUNTS  OF  GOD 

HERE  they  have  reared  their  hives  of  stone, 

Rife  with  the  traffic's  sway, 
Black  with  the  gloom  their  huge  walls  own 

Blotting  out  sun  and  day. 
Never  a  hint  of  the  woodland's  bloom, 

Never  a  breath  of  the  glen. 
This  is  the  mart  and  the  city's  heart — 

These  are  the  homes  of  men. 

But  here — ah  here,  there  is  flood  of  light, 

Stretch  of  the  field  and  wood, 
Laugh  of  the  waters  gay  in  flight, 

Balm  of  the  solitude. 
Bloom  of  the  ever  verdant  hills, 

Breath  of  the  fragrant  sod, 
And  sweet  again  the  winds  refrain 

These  are  the  haunts  of  God. 


63 


OCTOBER 

THY  power  all  the  valley  sways, 

And  on  the  brown  hills  sleeping  lies. 
A  hand  of  change  through  autumn  haze 
That  lightly  paints  in  dreamy  guise, 
With  gold  the  dying  summer  days, 
Beneath  the  blue  October  skies. 

We  note  thy  purple  hills — the  grays 
That  linger  in  thy  dim  morn's  eyes. 

The  beauty  and  its  myriad  ways 

That  tinge  thy  glowing  sunset  skies, 

That  steals  across  thy  dreamy  days — 
A  radiant  hint  of  Paradise. 

We  know  thy  charm  October  days, 
Where'er  thy  leaf  strewn  pathway  lies ; 

The  subtle  touch  that  wandering  strays 
To  bid  thy  errant  beauties  rise ; 

The  gold  that  dances  o'er  thy  ways 
And  all  the  earth  it  glorifies. 


64 


NATURE 

THY  beauty  creeps  athwart  the  morning's  glow 
O'er  wood  and  stream  the  lights  and  shadows 
play, 

Where'er  the  vagrant  winds  a  wandering  blow, 
Golden  I  see  the  glory  of  the  day. 

Thy  charm  still  lingers  as  the  daylight  falls, 
As  falls  o'er  ebbing  sands  the  vesper  chime. 

Thy  radiant  hues  gild  all  the  western  walls, 
Dreaming  I  feel  the  balm  of  twilight  time. 

Thy  glory  lingers  through  the  silver  night, 
The  hush  of  peace  beneath  thy  gleaming  skies, 

Beyond  the  trees,  a  dream  of  chastened  light, 
Smiling  I  see  the  stars  of  paradise. 


65 


OUT  DOORS 

KERENS  what  the  out  doors  means  to  me, 
It  means  my  spirit  is  set  free, 
It  means  I  break  the  captive  bars 
That  hold  the  light  of  sun  and  stars. 

It  means  I  take  unto  my  heart 
That  truth  of  which  I  am  a  part. 
It  means  wide  stretches  of  the  sea 
It  means  the  woodland's  majesty. 
It  means  the  sunlight  on  the  trees 
The  message  of  the  forest  breeze. 

It  means  that  life  both  dark  and  fair 

I  see  with  broader  vision  there. 

It  means  the  view  of  bird  and  bee 

It  means  the  joy,  the  ecstasy 

Of  space  untrammeled  of  all  strife, 

The  quiet  essences  of  life 

That  lift  my  soul  beyond  the  sod 

Until  I  stand  alone  with  God. 


66 


THE  LAND  OF  OUT  O'  DOORS 


NATURE'S  TEMPLE 

THE  house  where  I  worship— out  under  the  sky— 
Its  steeples,  the  mountains  that  tower  on  high; 
Its  aisles,  the  green  lanes  where  the  fair  sunlight 

gleams ; 
Its   songs   are  the   songs  of  the  birds   and  the 

streams. 

The  prayers  from  my  soul  that  in  rapture  ascend, 

With  the  scent  of  the  woods  and  the  green  hill 
sides  blend ; 

And  the  music  that  rises  from  gorge  and  from 
dell 

Weaves  deep  in  my  heart  the  sweet  peace  of  its 
spell. 

The  power  I  note  manifest  everywhere, 

Is  aglow  in  the  brook  and  the  scent-laden  air, 

In  the  woods  and  the  fields,  in  the  grass-covered 

sod, 
In  the  broad  ways  of  nature — the  temple  of  God. 


67 


THE  LAND  OF  OUT  O'  DOORS 


OUT  HERE  IN  THE  WEST 

DON'T  want  no  place  better  'n  right  here  where 

I  be— 
I  jings,  I  want  ter  say  ter  yer,  it's  good  enough 

f er  me ; 
Where  the  sunlight  kinder  shimmers  the  whole 

blame  bloomin'  year, 
An'  the  springtime  an'  the  summer  hez  fergot  ter 

disappear. 

Never  see  the  beat  uv  it,  by  gosh,  anyweres, 
Never  see  such  peaches,  apricots  an'  pears. 
Want  ter  know  what  reel  life  iz,  jest  the  very 

best? 
Tell  yer   where  yer'll  find   it — out   here  in  the 

West. 

Talk  erbout  yer  garden  spots,  an'  Eden  here  on 

earth, 
Bet  yer  I'm  a  knowin'  when  I  got  my  money's 

worth. 

Grapes  ez  big  ez  apples — fields  er  wavin'  grain, 
Then   there's    somethin'    'bout   it   I   can't   quite 

explain ; 
Kinder  mingled  in  the  air  an'   underneath  the 

skies— 

Ever 'thing  a-bloomin',  jest  like  its  paradise. 
Talk  erbout  yer  kountry  that  beats  all  the  rest, 
Ef  yer  like  ter  find  it — why  it's  out  here  in  the 

West. 


68 


rmervr  '^r^r^r^r-. 

THE  LAND  OF  OUT  O'  DOORS 


Don't  mention  disadvantages  where  other  places 

be, 
I'm  talkin'  'bout  the  fac's  I  know  is  mos'  con- 

cernin'  me. 
An'    tho'    you    may    be    readin'    with    a    sorter 

doubtin'  mind 
That   the   things    that    here    I'm    writin'    you'll 

scarcely  ever  find, 
I  jings,  I  want  ter  say  ter  yer,  it's  good  enough 

fer  me, 
Where  things  is  green  an'  bloomin'  jest  ez  fer  ez 

yer  can  see 
An'  the  land  a-lyin'  round  yer  kinder  seems  tho' 

it's  blest, 
Fer  that's  the  way  it  strikes  yer,  jest  out  here  in 

the  West. 


69 


THE  LAND  OF  OUT  O'  DOORS 


THE  OLD  ROAD 

I  JINGS  I  wanter  say  to  you 

Its  good  enough  fer  me, 
The  old  road  a  windin' 

Jest  as  fer  as  you  can  see, 
The  sky  above  a  shinin' 

Its  very  brightest  blue, 
And  the  whole  world  a  smilin' 

A  smilin'  straight  at  you; 
Fer  that's  the  way  it  strikes  you 

As  on  the  road  you  go — 
The  old  road — the  long  road — 

The  road  to  Lake  Tahoe. 

I  jings  I  wanter  tell  you 

The  sun  forever  shines 
On  the  old  road,  the  long  road 

That  winds  among  the  pines. 
Its  lyin'  in  the  sunlight 

As  fair  as  any  dreams, 
Beside  the  trees  a  whisperin' 

Beside  the  singin'  streams; 
And  it  strikes  your  very  spirit 

As  you  shift  in  high  or  low 
The  old  road — the  fine  road — 

The  road  to  Lake  Tahoe. 


70 


THE  LAND  OF  OUT  O'  DOORS 


THE  END  OF  THE  TRAIL 

OLD  pal,  old  car,  we  have  journeyed  far, 

In  the  varied  kinds  of  weather, 
Over  the  grades  and  through  the  vales — 

Just  you  and  I  together. 

Now  you're  battered  and  old  and  your  engine's 
cold 

And  the  heart  that  never  would  fail, 
Has  lost  its  hope  on  the  downward  slope — 

And  this  is  the  end  of  the  trail. 

Oh  my  spirit  is  sad  that  once  was  so  glad 

With  joys  that  together  were  drunk, 
And  my  love  somehow  seems  still  greater  now 

That  you're  only  a  pile  of  junk. 
But  the  memory  of  you  as  staunch  and  as  true 

As  the  stars  that  never  can  pale, 
Shall  live  through  the  years  tho'  I  see  through 
my  tears 

That  this  is  the  end  of  the  trail. 


71 


THE  LAND  OF  OUT  O'  DOORS 


THE  TEMPLE 

I  STOOD  in  Nature's  Temple  fair; 
A  holy  silence  filled  the  air, 
And  all  about  me  God  was  there. 

I  heard  His  golden  harmonies 
Sang  by  the  choirs  of  the  breeze — 
The  anthems  of  the  birds  and  trees. 

Uncovered  where  God's  sunlight  shone, 
A  worshiper  I  stood,  alone, 
And  read  the  sermon  in  a  stone. 


72 


-*n 

THE  LAND  OF  OUT  O'  DOORS 


INTERPRETATION 

THERE'S  a  voice  in  the  treeless  desert 
There's  an  echoing  ear  that  glows, 

There's  a  whispering  wind  that  seeks  its  kind 
To  speak  the  joy  it  knows. 

There's  a  smile  in  the  bud  and  blossom, 
There's  a  tale  in  the  whispering  wood ; 

And  one  that  is  part  shall  know  in  his  heart 
The  spirit  of  solitude. 

There's  a  chord  in  the  song  of  the  forest 
An  answering  chord  shall  stir — 

There  is  joy  and  pain  in  the  wind's  refrain 
To  the  wind's  interpreter. 


73 


THE  LAND  OF  OUT  O'  DOORS 


THE  GOAL 

I  DO  not  crave  the  common  needs, 

Nor  fame,  nor  wealth  untold. 
I  care  not  how  by  cult  or  creeds, 

So  that  my  soul  unfold. 
I  am  content  to  take  my  place 

Serene  among  the  stings, 
And  steadfast  meet  full  face  to  face 

The  strife's  rude  bufferings. 

I  play  my  part,  nor  blame  nor  praise 

I  hope  shall  mar  my  soul. 
I  do  not  know  the  devious  ways 

That  lead  unto  the  goal. 
No  smallest  duty  shall  I  spurn 

If  it  but  lead  to  light ; 
For  in  me  there  are  dreams  that  yearn 

High  as  the  Infinite. 

Perhaps  I  shall  count  hard  the  way, 

And  its  achievement  far. 
I  do  not  care,  so  courage  stay, 

And  faith's  effulgent  star. 
I  most  desire  that  I  grow, 

Nor  shall  I  miss  life's  pelf 
If,  striving,  I  but  learn  to  know 

My  own  diviner  self. 


74 


THE  LAND  OF  OUT  O'  DOORS 


FISHING 

I'LL  say  this  world  is  easy 

If  a  man  has  any  sense, 
And  we're  watched  over  always 

By  an  all-wise  Providence. 
Suppose  you  go  a  fishing 

To  gratify  your  wish, 
You  furnish  just  a  hook  and  line — 

And  God  provides  the  fish. 

Suppose  that  when  you're  fishing 

A  dandy  pool  you've  struck, 
Perhaps  if  you  just  knew  it 

The  Lord  brought  you  your  luck. 
And  when  the  sizzling  beauties 

Sit  before  you  in  a  dish, 
You  furnish  simply  appetite — 

And  God  provides  the  fish. 

So  life  is  just  like  fishing, 

With  days  both  good  and  bad, 
And  troubles  come  to  touch  us 

With  hours  that  make  us  sad. 
But  when  sorrow  seems  triumphant 

Over  happiness  at  length — 
It's  nothing — just  remember 

That  God  provides  the  strength. 


75 


DENNISON-McKELLAR  CO. 

Printers 
Stockton,  California 


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